


Cheek to Cheek

by tjmystic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 03:46:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjmystic/pseuds/tjmystic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumple takes Belle along with him on one of his deals.  Unfortunately, it's a ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheek to Cheek

Cheek to Cheek  
Birthday Ficathon 2014  
Giftee: passionsanddevotions

Rating: PG

Author’s Note: Welp, no smut in this one, my lovelies. I know, shocker :O In my defense, though, literally every other story I’m posting over the next 2 weeks is either an angst high, a smut high, or a both high, so I wanted to give you something fluffy and mildly humorous to ease you into it. You have been warned 0_o… But, for now, just enjoy this cute little thing :D

 

Standing on the open landing, watching his maid dance with the third handsome prince of the evening, Rumplestiltskin knew he’d made a mistake. 

He should’ve known to begin with that this was a bad idea. There were strict rules set in place for monsters that kidnapped noble women. Belle was supposed to be his servant, his slave. She was supposed to clean, and cook, and, every now and then, beg for him to let her go just so he could laugh in her face and refuse. He was supposed to order her about and torture her and generally make her existence a living hell. Instead, he made feeble attempts to scare her, and she giggled as if he’d told an amusing joke. He threatened her with the dungeon when she failed to clean a particular spot in his tower, and she swatted him with her duster. He told her of his wicked deals, and she only pranced about the castle with a smile on her face in response. 

He wasn’t supposed to care when she stopped. 

But care he did. 

So, despite the fact that the glum behavior she’d adopted over the past week was exactly what he’d expected of her when he’d bargained for her to begin with, he asked her cautiously over dinner if she had fallen ill. When her only response was, “No. I’m just a little lonely. It’ll pass, I’m sure,” an uncomfortable twinge of guilt settled in his stomach. 

He should’ve ignored it. Guilt was easy enough for him to forget after enough time spent at his wheel. Usually. And, besides, as he kept reminding himself, she was his prisoner. His servant. It shouldn’t matter to him one way or the other how she felt in the first place. 

But one more look into her sad, blue eyes, and those rational reminders flew out the window. 

Carefully, he’d mentioned to her that he had another deal to attend to the following night. A prince – Humperdinck, of all the ridiculous names – had called on him to convince some peasant girl to be his wife. There would be a ball, he’d added, an incredibly boring affair by the sound of it. But, perhaps, it could be made more exciting if the stolen Lady Belle made an appearance. 

The suggestion had barely left his mouth when Belle had launched herself across the table at him, winding her arms around him more tightly than he’d thought possible. She thanked him, babbled on about how grateful she would be to go with him. He hadn’t heard a word – all he noticed was the honeyed smell of her hair, the warmth of her skin… how damn close she was. It entirely skipped his attention until after she left that she’d been much too excited over such a simple thing as this.

But, then, he rationalized, what harm could it really do to take her out? After all, it was just one night.

Now, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, he realized he should’ve just let her sulk like she was supposed to.

He snorted derisively at himself. Just one night of watching Belle spin around in the arms of handsome prince after handsome prince was more than enough for him. He’d seen multiple times what could happen between a beautiful woman and a gentleman in just one night. True love, and the like. 

He scoffed. The last thing he needed was some muscly idiot with a sword coming to his castle to “rescue” his Belle. While his garden could always use a few more slimy decorations, he hardly relished the thought of being forced to. 

Off in the middle of the dance floor, the latest suitor twirled Belle into the air, causing her brilliant green dress to flair around her. Her laughter was audible even from the bannister he was perched on. 

Rumple growled – she’d probably forgotten that he was the one who’d magicked her that dress in the first place. 

Ungrateful. 

With a huff, he swept down the stairs and headed for the far side of the room. There were any number of women to pick from for a dance partner, but the girl in the corner had been glowering at him in fear since he sauntered in. 

She didn’t disappoint.

Sure enough, as soon as she realized he was walking towards her, she froze, her empty glass shattering on the floor as her hand shook. The hall went silent, the dancers just as paralyzed as the girl before him. Not even Belle and whatever man she happened to be with were moving. 

He couldn’t help but smile.

Flourishing his hand, he stepped into the woman’s personal space and wound his arm around her waist. 

“May I have this dance, dearie?” he smirked. 

She squeaked, eyes wide as saucers, but he was already leading her out onto the floor. A few of the couples had resumed dancing, but most of them were still huddled near the walls, pretending he didn’t exist or otherwise gawping at him as if he’d steal their dancing partners next. 

For the benefit of those watching (and no one else, of course – whether or not Belle was paying any attention to him didn’t matter in the least), he hefted the young girl into the air and spun her gracefully to her feet, stepping her back and forth in time with the music with every bit of fanfare he could muster. She hardly kept up with him, too concerned with looking for an exit, but it didn’t really matter – a few well-timed moves were enough to cover up any of her mistakes and make the dance look just as graceful.

The poor woman was about to burst into tears, he thought, when someone tapped him on his shoulder and interrupted them. 

“May I cut in?” 

Rumple spun around, a cutting retort poised on his tongue. But it wasn’t some well-meaning friend come to rescue the girl, or another prince who wanted a go himself. It was Belle. 

He dropped the other girl’s hand at once. It barely even occurred to him that she ran away the moment he did.

“I – of – of course,” he stuttered. 

Attempting not to trip, he followed her to the center of the floor, careful not to touch her even as they stood side by side. He quickly realized that wasn’t going to be a possibility, though, when Belle took his hands in hers, placing one at the small of her back and the other against her palm. 

He gulped. 

“How did your deal go?” she asked, leading him across the tile. “Did you convince her to marry the prince?” 

Rumple nodded, distracted and more than a little bit flustered. “Yes. Didn’t need much convincing, actually. Just as dimwitted as he is. But what do you expect from a girl named ‘Buttercup’? And here I thought my name was silly.” Cautious, he spread his fingers a little wider on the small of her back. “I’m surprised you’re interested.” 

She cocked her head. “I’m always interested. I just don’t always approve.” 

He made a noncommittal noise, not knowing what else to say to that, and spun her an arm’s length away lest he be forced to come up with something. When she returned to her place in front of him, a sly smile on her lips, he realized that she’d slowed down so he could lead. He hadn’t even noticed. 

“Actually, I’m quite interested in this,” she grinned. “I didn’t know you could dance so well. You’ve been holding out on me.”

A muscle in his cheek twitched. “Well, you never asked, did you, dearie?” he stammered. 

Her smile turned shy. Something fluttered uncomfortably in his stomach, but he squashed it down lest he lose his balance. 

“No, I suppose I didn’t.” 

He twirled her again, holding her this time so he could keep looking into her eyes. They hadn’t always been that bright, he thought. Certainly not that blue…

“Am I better partner than your other gentlemen, then?” he grumbled. 

Belle stilled for a moment, and he just barely kept himself from falling over her. He could’ve kicked himself. Of course the other man was a better dancer. And, even if he wasn’t, it was unbelievably stupid of him to assume that she didn’t at least prefer his company. 

But Belle only laughed, and, to his complete surprise, pulled him a little closer.

“Much better,” she assured him. “For one thing, you don’t step on my feet.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up in his throat, and then she was laughing, too. He’d never realized how beautiful her laughter sounded. Almost like little, chiming bells. Maybe it was just because he didn’t hear it enough. 

With a smirk at his own private pun, he waggled his eyebrows and yanked her an inch closer. 

“Well, how can I, dearie, if your feet aren’t even touching the ground?” 

He spun her high, giggling maniacally as she gasped and clutched him tight. When she touched ground again, just as soundly as ever, the smile she gave him was enough to rival the thirty-candle chandelier above. 

Perhaps this wasn’t such a mistake after all.


End file.
